His industry was to be admired. Whenever we stopped, whether it be for a few minutes or as a rest in the course of a long day’s march, out would come his needle. He plied it incessantly either in making himself nether garments or in fancy woolwork. At both he acquitted himself well.
Dan started his service badly. I had engaged 20 carriers. Dan turned up with 22. Asked why the requisite number was exceeded, he answered that the loads were too heavy to be apportioned to the lesser figure. As he had not seen them, it was unmistakably an attempt to have more men under him than I considered necessary. He would no doubt have drawn an illicit commission from the wages of the couple unwarrantably enrolled.
The superfluous couple were dismissed. Really, made up into about 60-lb. loads, only 18 men would have been wanted, but going away for a month from the chance of refilling any vacancy, it was desirable to have two spare men in case any of the others fell ill. In order that all might do their share as long as possible, the loads were arranged into 20 divisions.
At the close of the first day’s trek I called Dan Sokoto and told him I did not at all relish the trick he had tried and that if anything of the kind occurred again I would send him back and appoint another Headman.
The answer was characteristic. He did not attempt to justify his conduct. He said he was sorry for what he had done; that he hoped to remain with me; that if I forgave him I would have no further cause for complaint. Put in a more blunt way, he meant, “I tried to get the better of you; I failed. There is no necessity to make a fuss about the thing; let it pass and allow me to serve you.” So I regarded the matter.
Perhaps I should apologise for making this digression from the narrative, but progression on trek depends so much on one’s carriers that I thought these glimpses into their personality and manners might be of interest.
I have mentioned that a few miles added to a normal march will occasionally mean much more than the distance appears. Though the men went on from Gidden Gombo buoyantly and light-heartedly, after a couple of hours, with the sun’s rays increasing in power, the pace fell off considerably. The men held on bravely and were as good-tempered as ever, but were unable to maintain the rate, and by the time we had entered the last five miles there were signs of distress among some. I encouraged and stimulated them, referred to this being the end of their present efforts; joked of the “dash”—i.e., present—to be given when we reached Rahama and of their having light work, or none to do, the next day.
The heat and dust had become very trying, and although the carriers could march easily in the early mornings bearing their loads for 10 or 12 miles without a stop over fairly rough roads, they were now so done up on this last stretch that in the final 5 miles they had to rest three times.
It would have been easier for me to have cantered on, but I felt it due to the excellent fellows with whom I had been across and back over the Plateau for so many days to stay with them; and so together we at last reached Rahama; again saw a railway, and found Mr Garrard, the local senior representative of the Niger Company, as cheery as ever. The men, each carrying at least 60 lbs. weight on his head, had covered 26 miles in a typically torrid temperature.
It was well the march had been maintained, as the weekly train was to leave at 8 a.m. the following morning.